Branching out
by Slave 1
Summary: The early adventures of Legolas-part five at last, sorry I have been busy.
1. Default Chapter

Authors Note - Tolkien purists, please do not take offence at any liberties I have taken with J.R.R.'s original ideas. I have written this out of respect for his masterpiece and my admiration for the film. Hope you enjoy!  
  
N.B. Timeline note - this takes place several years before The Fellowship of the Ring.  
  
1 Branching Out  
  
This was Legolas' third time alone in the forest without his Elven brothers in as many days. He hummed a tune as he skipped from limb to limb high in the boughs of the Twisted Oak. It was a tune his mother had sung to him to help him sleep as a child when the dogs howled at night and he liked to repeat its sweet melody in times when he was in need of comfort. This was one such time.  
  
Anger was an alien emotion to the young Elf, but he felt it now. Anger brewed in him as he reflected on the words he had heard three moons ago, words that still stung his tapered ears like disturbed fire wasps.  
  
'Legolas I am sorry.' Brinwier had started, 'I realise how skilled you have become with your bow, I know you are light of step and nimble of mind and I also know that your heart is pure.' Legolas had already guessed what was coming next. He stared pleadingly at his elder's face, illuminated by the blue flame of the fire ring at which they were sat, but Brinwier had remained impassive. 'Your time will come my brother,' he had gently said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, 'do not be so impatient to join the battle.' Legolas had tried to argue his case, he had tried to convince Brinwier that he was needed in their raiding party, but to no avail.  
  
And so the party had left three days ago to confront their enemy, and Legolas had stayed in the village with the elders and the mothers.  
  
He swung around an outstretched branch of the tree and sat in a large fork, nestled on his wooden throne. Unwrapping a piece of apple he began to nibble upon it as he considered the beings he was trying to track down.  
  
The Darkroot Dwarves had struck his village more than three weeks ago and taken much of their Elven gold and silks. It had taken his brothers this long to decide what to do about it. Once a counter strike had been approved, after many councils, the Elves gathered together a party of six of their best warriors plus the tracker, Scarp Hedin. They had resolved to hunt down and punish the marauding Dwarves, taking back what was rightfully theirs and perhaps saving other communities from the Dwarves' greed. This would be no easy task - the Dwarves were tough and fierce, a few of them seemed to be Orcish half-breeds and at least one was practised in the dark arts. As far as the Elven council could make out there were no more than a dozen of these renegade creatures and they reasoned that their slowness should be no match for the quick-wittedness of the Elves. All the same, surely one more archer could not hurt the party - could it?  
  
Legolas cocked his head to one side and listened to the sounds being born on the gentle breeze which whispered around the top of the Oak. He could hear birds arguing over worms, the crystalline splashes of Silver Beard Waterfall over four miles away, the grunts of Goblins digging for roots in the mud around their caves to the East and then the soft voices of his brothers. It sounded as if they had made camp. He could not hear the gravelly throat of Hedin so he must be away, following scents and broken stems.  
  
Legolas could hear Ambrore and Emedial joking with one another. He could hear Dellane, Primdale and Fremora discussing how they would make the Dwarves pay for their actions and he could hear Brinwier talking gently to his bow. The words were almost song-like and Legolas could hear him plucking at the string as if it were a single note harp. 'Fire straight my bow, fire true. Find thy target and run him through. May thy shaft never bend or crack. Take flight Elven arrows, then come back.'  
  
Legolas leaned back and smiled to himself. Brinwier was ready for a fight. The Dwarves couldn't be too far away now. Finally he would get the chance to prove himself!  
  
As dusk descended Legolas closed his eyes and dreamed of running across snow-laden mountain tops, and of leaving no trace of his passage.  
  
  
  
Any comments would be greatly appreciated. Let me know if you want more.  
  
- NJB 


	2. Part Two.

Before we get started I would just like to respond to the reviews I have received.  
  
Obi-Wan and Tinabedina - I am glad you liked it (although we all know what a liar Obi-Wan is), Kochanski - thanks for the kind words and the use of British swearing, made me quite homesick and, to answer your queries OtakuNeev - sorry if you find the story derivative but all stories in the history of story-telling are derived from six basic storylines. You're right though, the structure I am using has been over used (not just in fantasy, think Magnificent Seven, think Watership Down) but at the end of the day I think it comes down to the content within the structure - hope I don't disappoint! As to the other Elves being able to hear Legolas, I assumed that Legolas would be as silent as a mouse in fluffy slippers. Cheers, Slave 1.  
  
Part 2  
  
The magpie was awake earlier than the others in its nest and had taken full advantage of the early morning sun to warm its feathers as it soared above the treetops. A flash of light in one of the larger trees caught its greedy eye and the bird swooped down to investigate the sparkling treasure. Only once it had woven its way through the tangled top branches of the Oak did it see that the sparkly thing already had an owner who wore it upon his smallest finger, and that the very same owner was now stretching and yawning, dappled in gold from the morning rays. The magpie realized this was one bauble it would not have, and flew off towards the river and the chance of catching juicy gnats on the air.  
  
Legolas stifled a last yawn and sniffed the air. He could smell the remains of his brothers' camp, the strange, earthy smell of blue fire embers, the nutty smell of bannock bread baked on sticks and. murkweed. Murkweed? None of the Elves smoked a pipe and he had never smelled the pungent fumes around Scarp Hedin before, so where was it coming from? He quickly scanned the forest floor from his perch but nothing stirred save small animals and insects. He listened carefully. Just the usual sounds of the forest waking up, plus the sound of Hedin's boots against pebbles. So he was now taking them along the river. Legolas' perfect brow furrowed, his translucent skin rippling like wavelets in a puddle. The river led only to Traimon's Pass, surely Brinwier knew that.  
  
The young Elf swung off the large branch that had doubled for a bed and nimbly leapt into the next tree and the one after that, with a grace to shame the most agile of cats.  
  
It did not take long for Legolas to spot the Elven party. As he had thought they were indeed traversing the edge of Cor River, stepping so lightly so as to not disturb the pebbles under their feet. A shame the same could not be said for Scarp Hedin. The wiry human could hardly make more noise as he scrambled over the stones. For a tracker he was decidedly un- stealthy. It was harder for Legolas to follow the party now as the trees by the water's edge were willowy and scarce, so he had to stay further inside the forest, sticking to the larger trees and catching glimpses of his brothers through infrequent gaps in the trunks. Suddenly the stench of murkweed assaulted his nostrils once again and he froze, squatting on a large branch close to the body of the tree he was on. Now he could hear something. The deliberate and cautious tread of hunters. Small twigs softly snapping underfoot, the brush of course cloth on leaves. He turned toward the direction of the sounds and was amazed to see a hooded figure standing below him and staring up at him. The figure was short and stocky and waving its hands in Legolas' direction. How could he not have heard the approach of this creature? Legolas opened his mouth to shout a warning to his brothers but his cry was abruptly silenced as a mossy tendril forced itself between his teeth and filled the space inside his mouth. Before he could react another branch snaked out from the tree trunk and wrapped around his ankles, hoisting him high into the tree, dangling helplessly like a squirrel caught in a snare. All but two of his arrows fell from his quiver to the grassy carpet below. The pair that remained were snagged in his belt. His hands were still free and Legolas shrugged off his bow and twisted to grasp one of the arrows. He heard the reassuring click of the arrow against the shaft of his bow and drew it back, but when he craned his head around to aim at the creature he saw nothing. The wooden gag in his mouth tore at the delicate skin of his lips as he struggled to find a target but he was alone, trussed up and useless. He stretched around as far as his binds would allow and could just make out the other Elves. They had stopped in their tracks and were peering back towards him, although the way they scanned the trees suggested that they still had not seen him. Legolas tried to wave his arms but to no avail. He had to attempt to warn them. Slipping off the ice gem ring that he wore on his little finger he rammed it against the feathers of his arrow and prayed that it would not affect its flight. Then, using a reverse shot that Brinwier himself had taught Legolas, he fired the arrow towards the Elves where it clattered against a block of flint, sending up sparks and landing at Dellane's feet. Legolas watched her pick it up, then mouth his name to Brinwier. He heard Brinwier shout "Back!" and the Elves began to run back towards Legolas' tree of imprisonment. All too late Legolas realized that this was not what they should be doing and attempted to feebly sign his desire for them to return back to clear ground. However the trap, with Legolas as the bait, had worked perfectly and the band of Elves reached him in seconds, unaware of the shadows that seemed to rise up from the bushes all around them and take the forms of black-clad Dwarves.  
  
More to come - stay tuned! - NJB 


	3. Part 3

Part 3  
  
As if alive, and sensing the violence that would surely come, the forest became silent. The only sounds came now from the Dwarves as they hefted their battle axes and hammers from one hand to the next, chain-mail rubbing against leather, dry vegetation crackling under their heavy feet. The Elves in the middle of this unholy circle were quite the opposite as they backed silently into each other, loading and drawing arrows as they did so, each one aiming out towards their aggressors like the points on a compass. From his upside down position Legolas recognized their maneuver as being a defensive stance called Melradee's Bloom, taught to them all by his own father. He struggled to free the second arrow lodged behind him but it held tight, snagged among the braided designs of his belt.  
  
The cowled Dwarf, the one who had ensnared Legolas, chuckled and raised one unarmed hand, then he spoke with a voice that dripped poison, "I wonder…." he began, now gently waving his raised hand in the direction of the other Darkroot Dwarves, "I wonder what brings a half dozen prancing Mirkwood Elves so far from their cozy beds… could they be seeking someone?"  
  
Brinwier drew his bow back an extra inch as he targeted the darkness within the hood of the speaker's cloak. "You know exactly why we are here Dwarf."  
  
The Dwarf lowered his hand and clasped his other in front of him as if in meditation. Then he hissed, "Surely you have not traveled so far in order to kill yourselves have you? Perhaps you have… who am I to try to understand the puerile reasoning of Elves?"  
  
When the other five Elves felt Brinwier take a deep breath and hold it, they all simultaneously tensed, ready for the moment to let go of their flights. "Of course, you Elves will only act in defense," continued the dark Dwarf, "so let us help you on your way. Troffmok!" At this one of the other Dwarves took a small throwing axe from his belt and hoisted it at Brinwier. As the Elf ducked to avoid the spinning blade he released his arrow, as did his brothers. The arrows whistled toward their targets but abruptly stopped and fell to the ground a mere finger's width from the grinning faces of the Dwarves. The Elves heard a sharp cracking noise as if their arrows had hit a glass wall and the Dwarves began to laugh. As one the Mirkwood Elves released second arrows, which clattered and fell against this invisible shield as the first ones had. Even as they loaded their third attempts the Dwarves were rushing upon them with surprising speed, with apparently two Dwarves descending upon each Elf.  
  
Legolas could only watch helplessly as his brothers attempted to evade their attackers by leaping into the air and over their flailing weapons. Four of the Elves appeared above the Dwarves' helmeted heads and somersaulted to clearer ground ready to take up the battle. Legolas felt choking bile rising in his throat when he saw that Primdale and Ambrore had not been fast enough. The Dwarves screamed with glee at their capture and all but five of them laid into the trapped Elves, smashing their legs with heavy hammers and taking turns to hack at their fallen bodies with their axes. Brinwier was already leaping toward the cloaked Dwarf when his opponent suddenly vanished, leaving an echoing laugh and a black vapor on the air. Dellane, Emedial and Fremora were aiming at the five Dwarves who now came at them brandishing their battleaxes with uncontrolled fury. Two of the Dwarves fell back, arrows jutting from their throats; a third needed a second arrow in the eye from Dellane's bow to fall.  
  
The remaining two Dwarves rushed Fremora as she fumbled for her next arrow and brought her down with their heavy blades, one across the stomach and the other deep in her shoulder. She collapsed like a doll under their weight and moaned as she saw her insides spill out onto the dirt. Brinwier and Emedial were upon her attackers immediately and in seconds the two Dwarves lay grasping their slit throats as their blood mingled with Fremora's on the ground. Brinwier and Emedial sheathed their knives and took up their bows once more as Dellane came to join them, his weapon already drawn back.  
  
The remaining Dwarves turned away from the bloody pulp that had once been Primdale and Ambrore and yelled a battle cry as they ran towards the trio. Three more arrows flew into Dwarven flesh and now the fight seemed more even. Dellane and Emedial ran in opposite directions, leading one Dwarf each away from Brinwier who loosed an arrow at one of the two bearing down on him. Its point glanced off the helmet of the closest Dwarf who barreled into Brinwier, knocking the air from his lungs and putting him on his back. The Dwarf sat on his chest, his stocky knees pinning Brinwier's arms to the ground and the shaft of his axe across the Elf's neck. Brinwier started to choke but could not find the strength to break out from under the creature weighing him down and squeezing the life from him. The second Dwarf took up position by Brinwier's head and raised its axe high, ready to split the Elf's face in two, and shouting a victory yell at the sky. Suddenly, in the split second of quiet before the deathblow, Brinwier heard four noises. The first was a soft, wet rip; the second was a sharp snapping sound, then the sound of metal upon metal and lastly the sound of a final breath gurgling through gushing blood. The Dwarf, its axe still raised high, fell slowly backwards, a slender arrow shaft protruding from its open mouth. The Dwarf on his chest looked up in surprise, and gave Brinwier time enough to flip him over and bury his dagger in the Dwarf's neck.  
  
Brinwier jumped up and looked over to the hanging Legolas. Legolas had relaxed his grip on his bow and had stopped struggling. A sound to Brinwier's left made him turn and draw his bow but it was only Dellane backing out from the trees, bow raised, as he returned to the clearing. "The Dwarf vanished!" he shouted over his shoulder to Brinwier, all the while scanning the trees for any sign of his quarry. "Mine too!" came another familiar voice as Emedial appeared from behind a group of Birch trees. Brinwier shook his head as he ran over to Legolas' tree and started to climb it. "Dwarves and wizardry do not mix…" he muttered as he cradled Legolas' head and started to carve at the wooden outgrowth in the young Elf's mouth. As his knife penetrated the bark of the tendril, dark red sap spurted from the cuts and the appendage withered and shrunk back into the trunk of the tree. Legolas sucked in the fresh air greedily, then gave a small cry as the wooden restraints around his ankles suddenly let go and he fell head first into the waiting arms of Dellane.  
  
The sound of bushes being parted startled the Elves and they drew together in a smaller version of Melradee's Bloom with Legolas curled up inside their triangular ring. Scarp Hedin jogged into the clearing and skidded to a halt when he saw the carnage before him and the tired Elves with their arrows all trained upon his head. He threw his hands in the air and took a step back, stumbling over the legs of a dead Dwarf. "Whoa, wait, it's me…" he yelled, then, more quietly, "what did I miss?"  
  
Part four in a couple of days guys! 


	4. Part 4

Thanks for the kind reviews everybody. I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it.  
  
Sorry, this part is quite short but I'm working on the rest of the story details at the moment. I think it is going to be longer than six parts. What the heck - I'll just keep writing until you get bored with it.  
  
Part 4.  
  
The Mirkwood party, now reduced to five including the human tracker, had walked for over half a day now. Brinwier had not exchanged one word with Legolas for the entire journey. Upon leaving the confines of the forest, Scarp Hedin had led them through desolate terrain, littered with the twisted forms of long cooled magma flows, the blackened, razor-sharp rock frozen in mid-flow and barren as a desert. These were the remains of the long dead volcano 'Wyrm Tongue' and heralded the beginning of the Iron Hills range. The Elves could the beginnings of new growth, grasses and short bushes as they neared the base of Redmare's Mound and it was with some relief that they made camp upon Brinwier's decision.  
  
As twilight descended the four Elves sat silently around a small fire, each lost in their own thoughts. Hedin had, as usual, taken off ahead to scout the base of the mound, looking for any Dwarf tracks that might confirm their search. Emedial and Dellane were roasting bulbous magenta roots over the flames, they seemed to be the only two of the party who could work in unison. Brinwier slowly sharpened the tips of his arrows on a flat stone, then picked up Fremora's quiver and did the same to her arrows. He had slung Fremora's bow over his other shoulder after the battle and carried it alongside his own. Fremora's weapon and a few daggers were all that they had been able to gather from their fallen comrades, everything else had been smashed beyond use. Scarp had taken one of the smaller battleaxes from a Dwarf's dead hand and Legolas watched it swing like a tail from its hook on the human's belt as their guide disappeared behind an outcrop.  
  
Legolas himself had never felt so alone. Ambrore, Primdale and Fremora were dead because of his own impetuousness. The Mirkwood Elves had suffered a terrible loss at the hands of the Darkroot Dwarves, a loss that could have been avoided had Legolas heeded Brinwier's advice and stayed at home. The guilt ate at him from the inside out and the shame he felt prevented him from being able to look any of his brother Elves in the face. He had never known such abject misery and had almost decided to just up and leave when he was taken aback by Brinwier's voice. "Legolas," there was no warmth in the voice and he sounded tired, "how much could you see of the cloaked Dwarf from your tree?" Legolas looked over to his mentor and saw that Brinwier was not addressing him to his face but continuing to rub the silver tip of an arrow against the rock. Legolas started to rise, but thought better of it and stayed on his side of the fire. Emedial and Dellane were now staring at him.  
  
"Not much," started Legolas, "I never caught sight of his face but I did see his hands, they were blackened as if burnt."  
  
"We all saw his hands Legolas, what else did you notice?"  
  
Legolas squirmed, embarrassed to be under Brinwier's interrogation. "He made no sound when moving, he is well practiced in elemental and defensive arts…. in fact he could have been an Elven wizard."  
  
"That creature is no more Elven than that root Dellane is trying to hide behind!" Brinwier snapped.  
  
Dellane took the crispy vegetable from his lips and returned it to the spit over the fire. "Legolas made a fair point though Brin." the Elf began, "How could the Dwarf know of such magic?" This was the most positive thing Legolas had heard all day and he seized upon the moment. "He could have been trained, by one of the Banished…"  
  
"Stick to what you know!" snarled Brinwier. Then the older Elf sat upright and ran both hands through his pewter hair. He inhaled and blew the air out slowly through his pursed lips, visibly relaxing before the Elves' eyes and placing his hands upon his knees. "We need to sleep, Emedial, take first watch."  
  
The Elves huddled closer to the fire and Legolas believed he would actually be able to sleep now that the silence had been broken. All the same, he kept the dancing flames between himself and Brinwier. Emedial took up his bow and peered into the gloom. "I'll let you know when Hedin returns." he said to the others, "If he returns." he said softly to himself. 


	5. Part Five

Part 5  
  
The morning brought with it a fine mist that settled on the bracken that the Elves were using for beds. It highlighted the gossamer webs threading each jagged rock to the next around their makeshift camp and it sparkled on the Elves' pale skin, illuminated by the soft rose hues of the morning sun. The Mirkwood party awoke silently and quickly, gathering their possessions and stretching their limbs. Scarp Hedin was munching on a pastry and sniffing the air like a dog. "The Iron Hills are freezing this time of year, and the rain is a day away. We need to be through the range before it comes or we will be forced to take a different route and risk losing our quarry. Even you Elves would have a hard time stepping on rock ice."  
  
"A human might," replied Brinwier as he slung the two bows across his back, "just lead us to the trail you found yesterday."  
  
Hedin did not answer; instead, he strode off towards a gravel path that led between the two tallest hills in the Troll's Spine range. As the Elves followed him Emedial whispered in their native tongue, a whisper so low that only his brothers would hear it.  
  
"I do not trust the human."  
  
Legolas turned his head and nodded in Emedial's direction, as did Dellane. Brinwier made no acknowledgement as he deftly avoided a jagged rock to leap down to the path.  
  
Legolas' muscles felt heavy this morning, he had not slept as soundly as he had hoped for, and the bitter cold had penetrated his bones during his watch, even as he sat dangerously close to the camp fire. He could not get the slaughtering of Primdale, Fremora and Ambrore out of his mind and last night he had come to a decision. If he should survive this mission and make it back to Mirkwood, he would banish himself from the village. This was the only way he could see to prevent his father's name being tarnished.  
  
The human ranger had disappeared again behind some tall, scrubby bushes and Emedial 'hurrumphed' his displeasure. "I'm telling you," started Emedial, "he's leading us into a trap. Every route he has led us on has few escape routes, now we have the stone blades of these hills to keep us fenced in. Should the Dwarves attack…."  
  
"We would finally have the chance to avenge our brothers." finished Brinwier. "Your feelings may be true, but the human is still our surest means of finding the Dwarves again. If he is in league with these devils then he has the blood of Mirkwood Elves on his hands – I will see that he is punished."  
  
The venom in his voice startled the other Elves and they fell silent once again. A figure appeared half way up the side of the left hand hill and they heard the human's voice carried on the bitter wind. "This way! I've found fresh tracks!"  
  
Scarp Hedin had not moved from his position when the Elves finally caught up to him. The human knelt by the path that had now turned from gravel to loose soil and traced the partial remains of a footprint with a twig. He looked up at them and grinned. "This is no more than a day old. Luckily the morning drizzle did not wash everything clean."  
  
"This makes no sense," scowled Brinwier, "why would a Dwarf haul itself up here instead of retreating to a cave or a mine?"  
  
"Maybe it's a decoy." said Legolas as he bent to examine the print more closely.  
  
"They're not that clever," replied Hedin, erasing all trace of the print with his own boot, "come, let's catch them napping with their loot!" With that he bounded off along the path, which made a sudden turn around the belly of the hill. The Elves followed but Legolas hesitated and looked at the ground where the print had been, a print that had seemed to him too large and slender to be that of a Dwarf.  
  
An hour of strength sapping trudging along the spiraling path later and the party found themselves at the base of a sheer wall of granite. The path ended abruptly and there seemed to be no other course to take. "Great! A dead end!" moaned Dellane.  
  
"No, look up." said Emedial.  
  
At least 150 feet above them, at the top of the smooth cliff, the Elves could see a wooden joist and loops of rope. "A pulley," said Hedin, "probably for a bucket or platform. That's how they get up and down."  
  
"So how do we get up?" asked Emedial, "Do we shout to our friends the Dwarves to lower the bucket?"  
  
"No," replied Brinwier, "but we will use their gear. One of us must climb up and operate it."  
  
"I'll go," said Legolas a little too eagerly, "you all know I'm the fastest climber out of the four of us."  
  
Surprisingly Brinwier put up no resistance to Legolas'claims. Instead he shrugged off his bow, tied a thread from his belt to one of his arrows and fired it gently up. The arrow flew directly towards the joist, cleared it by an inch, made a shallow arc and then descended back towards the party who all took a cautionary step back. The arrow thudded into the damp soil and Brinwier picked it up. The thread was still attached and had un-spooled perfectly from its hook on his belt. Brinwier took the remainder of the thread and tied it to the end of Scarp's rope, then he tugged on the thread hanging down from above and the Elves watched the rope ascend towards the joist like a charmed snake.  
  
The weight of the rope was no match for the strength of the Elven thread and it spiraled up and over the joist. As the end of the rope left the ground Brinwier tied two daggers to it and they flashed and danced on their journey upwards. After a few moments, Brinwier was left holding the dangling end of the human's rope, the other end looked securely wedged in the joist by the protruding daggers. He held out the free end to Legolas. "Up you go." It was less of a request, more an order. Legolas took hold of the rope, gave it a cautionary pull, and then hoisted himself up it, pulling himself towards the top using only his hands.  
  
In less than a minute Legolas was at the top. Before swinging out onto the plateau he peeked over the edge. The top of the hill was flat, as if some mighty giant had cleaved the peak off cleanly with his axe. In the center of the plateau was a perfectly round lake and in the center of that was a small island, barely big enough to hold six people. Right in the middle of the island was a stone wall. Legolas imagined that from the back of a hawk this must look like some huge eye. He scanned the whole area but there was no one to be seen. Heaving himself up onto the edge he tied off the rope and signaled for the others to follow.  
  
As he waited he took a moment to survey the view from this strange summit. He could see Mirkwood to the South West, he could just make out the highest peaks surrounding Mordor and he could see clouds of dark birds circling the swamps to the East. Legolas allowed himself the opportunity to dream of happier times back in his village. Brinwier appeared in all of his memories and he wondered if they would ever be friends again.  
  
A soft voice dragged him from his thoughts and he turned to face Dellane. "I said have you seen any evidence of them?"  
  
"Sorry," replied Legolas, "no, nothing. Just that island."  
  
The Elves began to scout around the edge of the lake while they waited for the human to huff and puff his way up the side of the cliff. Legolas joined Emedial and Brinwier by the water's edge. "How deep is it?" he asked. Emedial disturbed the surface with the toe of his boot. The water was so dark it seemed to absorb light; they could barely see the ripples. "I can't tell," answered Emedial, "something about it doesn't feel right."  
  
Standing by the lake they could now see that the stone wall was, in fact, a circular structure. "A well?" whispered Legolas.  
  
"Possibly," replied Brinwier, "whatever it is we need to check it."  
  
Emedial was already removing his boots. Dellane put her hand on his shoulder and bent down to face him. "Are you sure you want to do that?"  
  
"Well, somebody's got to get over there." he replied unconvincingly.  
  
"Then," said Dellane, "I suggest we use the boat."  
  
Emedial looked at her, confusion clouding his face, then was distracted by the sound of scraping. He looked over his shoulder and saw Scarp Hedin dragging a small boat around to the Elves. The human smiled as he reached them. "This was sitting in the water on the other side of the lake. You couldn't see it from here."  
  
"Really?" said Emedial gruffly as he started to pull his boots back on.  
  
Brinwier's face softened slightly for the first time since the battle. "Thank you for the offer Emedial. Scarp, collect up your rope and the daggers, the rest of you climb aboard."  
  
The Elves and the human had to use their hands to paddle across to the island. The water was unbelievably cold and they had to take turns for a few seconds whilst the others warmed their frozen fingers. After a short while they reached the island and pulled the boat up onto the stone shore. Legolas was the first to the stone circle and he carefully glanced over the edge. The top of a ladder bolted to the side of the stone peeked out from the darkness and suggested a long climb down. Even with his Elven sight Legolas could not see further than a few feet down the hole.  
  
Brinwier had already decided on their course of action. "Emedial, you and Scarp stay up here and watch our backs, and be alert. We do not want Dwarves before and behind us." Emedial started to protest but was cut short by the waved hand of Brinwier. "One of us will come back for you should we need more help, all we intend to do is take a quick look inside this hill and work out our next move." He walked over to the hole and swung a leg over the edge and onto the top rung of the ladder. "Come Dellane, Legolas, let us see what we can unearth." With that he vanished into the darkness. Dellane followed, whispering to Legolas, "We will need to use our ears instead of our eyes Legolas, stay sharp." before disappearing. Legolas smiled at Emedial, then nodded to Scarp. "Keep safe." he said before following his brothers into the hole.  
  
"Can you hear them?" asked the human as Emedial sat on the edge of the stones.  
  
"Just barely," replied the Elf, "strange, this hole does not echo."  
  
"These are the dark arts at work my friend," mumbled Hedin, "we should not be meddling in them."  
  
Emedial gave him a scornful look, and then turned his attention back to the hole.  
  
The human walked closer to him. "Can you hear them now?"  
  
"No," answered Emedial, "I can't hear a thing."  
  
"Good," hissed the human raising his arm, "then they won't hear this!" Before Emedial could turn the ranger had brought the Dwarven axe down sharply, slicing into the Elf's neck and covering his mouth with his free hand. Emedial's spine was severed instantly and he shuddered as he died. It was all the human could do to stop the body from falling into the hole. Hedin dragged the lifeless form back to the shore and rolled it into the water. Black, slimy weed rose to the surface and greedily smothered Emedial's body before pulling him into the depths.  
  
Hedin wiped his hands on his tunic and kicked the boat from the shore, out across the lake, where it drifted towards the other bank.  
  
Then he returned to the stone circle and stealthily began to descend into the dark. 


End file.
